The March of the Black Queen
by Andyeah
Summary: The only thing the detective couldn't deduce was why the hell such a ridiculous prank was being practiced on her. She shot back to the gambler with an incredulous scowl. "...Are You Serious?" Her scowl was countered by a grin so blatantly brimming with self-satisfaction that it couldn't have been called anything but serious. "Quite. I've always wanted to try this on you."
1. Chapter 1

"Ugh... You've had your fun... so cut this out already!"

"If you had some clue as to what fun this is, Detective... you wouldn't stop either."

Kyouko Kirigiri owed her current predicament to a game of her own making, with a gamble she'd planned to win and a penalty she'd agreed upon. Of all the painful and unlikely things that had led to this absurdity, that fact may very well have been the thing which stung the most.

It started in a room put aside for games, where the predicament's mastermind so-often occupied her time...

* * *

"I've come to challenge you, Celes-san."

The young woman in gothic frills looked up from her black tea in surprise towards the Rec Room doorway where a certain rival of hers stood; of all things she'd expected to hear that day, those words weren't among them. "Oh my... a challenge from the so-very placid Kirigiri? May I ask where this came from so suddenly?"

Kyouko walked up closer as she spoke. "The Super Highschool Level Gambler never turns down a challenge, correct? Then surely this will be no different." The sharpened gaze she gave made it clear she was here purely on business and that explaining herself wouldn't be a part of that agenda.

Celestia smiled that well-practiced smile of hers as she saw the chance for some _entertainment_.

"Very well; I'm sure the Super Highschool Level Detective would provide a... satisfying diversion." The condescension in her words clashed fiercely with the face giving them.

Celestia gracefully placed the porcelain tea cup down and stood up from the table with the same grace before her eyes wandered nonchalantly around the room, cycling through a gallery of favorite games and an armory of mind-games to play with someone she considered worthy of both. Taking one's time was a matter of course in taking an opponent off-guard, and everything she did in front of said opponent had to look perfectly casual.

"Decisions, decisions..." she said too softly, either not caring if she was heard or trying to force Kyouko to listen closer; either worked.

Those eyes soon landed in the corner and the smile became a smirk. "If any challenge will do, how about... a round of darts?" It was an unkind smirk that waited for the answer.

Kyouko glared reflexively for just a second. "You know that I can't..." she said as she indicated her leather gloves with five fingers spread. It was true; she had no real throwing precision wearing these gloves, and taking them off wasn't an option.

That was just one of the many ploys a seasoned gambler like her would use to unnerve opponents.

Celestia's eyes fell upon the center of the room next. "Then perhaps... a rousing game of pool?" she proposed with no sarcasm. She was serious enough to know she'd probably win, but whimsical enough to know her opponent would never agree.

Kyouko sighed. "I'm not going to be lulled into a false sense of security just because you suggest a game testing kinetic ability." She'd made it clear that she wanted to cut to the chase; to play a game of mental prowess that they could both enjoy. "I'd prefer something less confined to this room, anyway."

"I see..."

Her smile went unchanged, but inside she felt a twinge of disappointment in her opening volley falling flat. But maybe the chance to launch the second or the third was why she so enjoyed her time with the school's premier sleuth. "Then Othello? At the very least, it's portable."

Kyouko smirked. "Tempting... but I've got something else in mind... just as tempting and just as portable." Celestia saw her soon-to-be opponent eyeing the chess board down on the table where her tea rested, with all its pieces nicely arranged. There was no need to communicate; it suited both their talents perfectly.

Celestia, who had arranged the pieces that way to pass the time while contemplating what strategies they might hide, held her hand to her mouth in mock-politeness as she quietly laughed. "If that's your choice, Detective."

Kyouko saw the glint in her eyes: it was the predatory look she wore when ready to weave fresh prey into her web so she could bleed them dry. But the Super Highschool Level Detective wouldn't be snared in that web so easily.

* * *

The room was exactly what Kyouko was expecting. Lace and silk in gothic black and spotless white on every doily-adorned corner; faux-Victorian era furniture in an elegant-yet efficient arrangement; roses -both fake and real- immaculately spread all about (their placement looking obsessive in their attempt at looking effortless). How, exactly, had she ended up in the sanctuary of her foe, Celestia Ludenberg's room?

Put plainly, the conditions of her victory lie in giving her hostess whatever whims or home-field advantages (real or imagined) she desired. No blow to the gambler's pride would be quite as potent as her would-be prey willingly falling into every trap she could concoct only to escape unharmed, in victory.

Kyouko remembered how quickly she'd gotten to work concocting it.

* * *

"You did request an arena less... dreary than this one. What's say we take this somewhere more private?" Kyouko raised an eyebrow.

"May my room suffice? Don't worry... I won't force any house rules on you."

Kyouko appeared to think for a moment, when she already knew her answer. "If that's what you want... it's perfectly alright with me." Like Celestia, she too let all her confidence radiate through her every word as she stepped out the Rec Room door first.

* * *

Now here she was sitting across from the room's occupant with the board she herself had selected in front of her (her taking the white side and Celestia on the black). The lace of the tablecloth reminded her of a spider's web.

Celestia steepled her fingers. "I'm impressed, Kirigiri: I don't receive challenges every day, you know. But what is a game without a wager, hmm?"

Kyouko turned away; being careful not to give away any tells that could be read. "You certainly do love to make wagers... not that it's all that surprising."

After those words were given time to stew, she looked forward into the deep-crimson eyes before her with her own piercing gaze. "But that's fine... because I came here with the same thing in mind."

Many people called her gaze icy, but right now it had more in common with fire. She could definitely pull this off: she was easily one of the best chess players in the school, even without the game being a part of her Super Highschool Level talent.

Just like finding the break-through solution that cracks a hard case, she could think of no satisfaction right now quite like taking the challenge of defeating the one who had never lost a game in her life head on. After all, no one -not even her- could possibly be a genius at _every_ game.

Of course, that satisfaction may have had something to do with being promised a lucrative reward upon her success.

Celestia caught every subtle change in Kyouko's usually-stony expression; she loved nothing more than to shatter expressions like that.

"Then how about this: if you win, you may have me do anything." Her playful gaze narrowed. "And I do mean _anything_... I could even..." she paused as she tapped her index finger to her chin, "run through the halls of Hope's Peak in the nude... if that's what you wanted."

Kyouko gave a rare chuckle; things were falling into place. "Hmmhmm... I wouldn't mind seeing _that_ to be honest."

Celestia held a pale hand to her mouth in scandalous amusement. "Oh my... is this Kirigiri's rarely-seen naughty side?" She knew it wasn't, but gentle ribbing was another piece to her routine that she so-enjoyed.

"Or, perhaps... is the side being shown today by the ever-impartial private eye a _competitive_ one? I never thought I'd see the day."

Kyouko's expression became serious again. "Make no mistake, Celes-san: I don't enjoy trouncing _or_ humiliating my opponents the way you do. I'm simply not a fan of losing... any more than you are."

Celestia felt a profound sense of amusement right then; people that think they can beat her are so cute. "Well, I should warn you... the same goes for you. If this is a deal, I too could have you do anything." She held out her hand; the silver piece covering her index finger seemed to point out like the paralyzing stinger of a scorpion. "I do hope you're prepared."

Kyouko looked down at the dainty fingers before her and took them in her own. "Deal."

The stage was set for her victory. That thought was shared by both.

* * *

"Your move, Detective."

Kyouko sent out her first pawn, two spaces ahead. Her opponent was a master of predicting the statistics of play, and the first move traditionally came with an advantage; had she chosen the black side in a show of power? Ultimately, it didn't matter: it was an advantage she would exploit maliciously.

She thought she could hear the words 'predictable' being spoken from under said master's breath.

With every piece she sent out, Celestia was always there with her own, ready to match her move-for-move. Maybe playing a similar strategy was her way of saying 'this is how it's done.'

If true, she was managing to prove that point. Like a bona fide master, she had a skill for poking tiny holes in Kyouko's defence that she'd never considered (and she'd observed _many_ strategies over the years).

But the pieces she had lost hadn't been lost in vain. With every offensive she weathered and every piece she'd sacrificed, Kyouko made sure to execute the one that had done it. As the last pawn went down on both sides, Celestia held more pieces than her.

"Tell me, Kirigiri... what brought this on, exactly?" Kyouko eyed her with some caution as she watched her take a sip of tea (another show of control). "I know you aren't a betting woman... and you aren't so lackadaisical as to casually issue a challenge like this either." She sent her bishop across the board as she said that, threatening Kyouko's rook.

"Does it matter?" Kyouko dodged as she pushed the rook from harm's way.

"Very much so: I want to know the motive my victim had as I crush them." She sent out a knight, establishing an aggressive stance at the center.

Kyouko looked down at the board as she spoke. "Hmm... well if you must know... that attitude is exactly why." She sent her own knight out in threat to its black counterpart.

Celestia stifled a laugh. "Oh? Do tell." She sent her own rook across the board to bait the white bishop.

Kyouko was silent for a moment as her fingers hovered over the pieces before deciding that her opponent deserved to know why she was being taken down a peg. "I won't name names, but I guess you could say... a few other students have put what you might call a 'hit' out on you..."

Her bishop took out the black rook. "And I'm the hitman."

Celestia steepled her fingers again as her smile seemed to lengthen. "A hit on moi? How flattering."

She took the black knight she'd sent out earlier in her index and thumb. "Let me guess...Togami-kun?"

Kyouko shrugged as she allowed her white knight to fall. "Yeah."

The two kept trading pieces back and forth like that for most of the match. Celestia was forcing an offensive that Kyouko wasn't used to; her approach was usually far more methodical than this. It made the game go by that much faster, but this likely wasn't good in the long run with her smaller stock of standing pieces. Despite all that, her overarching strategy hadn't been compromised, and so neither had her confidence.

"I'm surprised you took the deal. I didn't think you were so easily sent on the attack."

Kyouko paused to come up with a reply as she concentrated on the black pieces, trying to learn what formation they were taking. Maybe she wanted to spare her 'mark's feelings in not telling her how many of the 78th class' other students had put her up to this, and so she gave a white lie of her own. "You know what they say: money is the gold standard among motivations... so to speak."

Honestly, for the most part she held no ill-will towards Celestia's ego: after all, in a school set aside for the most elite among elite, a massive ego was hardly something unique to her. She actually had quite a bit of respect for the gambler's keen understanding of psychology and mathematics.

No, it was her compulsive need to lie at every turn and every opportunity, whenever she thought she could get away with it that got under Kyouko's skin (even if she never made that fact obvious).

Deducing lie from fact was just second nature to her and both of them knew that; there was simply no pulling the wool over eyes as wide-open as hers.

They'd played that game many times, and still the self-styled Queen of Liars felt the need to keep on playing. It was almost as if she was testing, prodding and poking away at Kyouko's perceptiveness for her own amusement, spinning strings upon strings of lies only to then play coy whenever she was caught; like a mischievous child with a paw in the cookie jar.

She wasn't a spiteful person by any means, and as far as she could tell her frequent challenger wasn't doing it in spite either; more likely she just didn't know any other way to interact with others. But even then, Celestia had challenged her so many times and in so many ways without repercussion, no different from allowing that same mischievous child to run loose.

Now seemed like too good an opportunity to beat the haughty girl in her own territory, and maybe to finally see that playfully deceptive smile of hers crack just a bit; because truth-be-told, she wasn't the only one with a playful side.

The smile never so much as budged from her face as she paused to inspect if all the pieces were in place. "Not that I mind having you as my opponent... but I'd have thought Togami-kun himself would jump at the chance to prove his intellectual mettle."

Kyouko smirked in remembering one of the odd times she'd found the gambling girl's antics genuinely amusing. "After that time you made off with his prized pocket watch? I doubt he's the type to relive his humiliations." She failed to mention that the Super High School Level Scion didn't get it back for a month, after paying a hefty ransom for its safe return.

Celestia giggled with a somewhat impish grin as she unleashed her Queen. "Point taken."

* * *

...

...

...

" _I believe... that this is checkmate, Detective_."


	2. Chapter 2

" _I believe... that this is checkmate, Detective_."

Those words carried in the breezy tone their deliverer spoke with so routinely and yet were holding the weight of possibly her entire school life. That weight took form in the deep chill gradually spilling over her face, as her otherwise-stoic eyes darted back and forth from the board to its undisputed conqueror sitting across. Her chilling face and her darting eyes were evidence to the length of her disbelief as she inspected the validity of the outcome over and over; even when it had all crumbled right before her.

Once the black queen took to the field, her strategy fell apart before she could mount any counter-attack to stop its rampage. Worse still, Celestia's air-tight formation had made the strongest piece unassailable, making her own queen seem feeble by comparison as it was swept aside like the rest of her forces; it wasn't long before her king was boxed in.

She could investigate any crime scene, analyze any clue, and imagine any number of scenarios for how an incident had played out, and she _would_ come away with an answer. And yet despite all that brilliance and against all the confidence she'd walked in here with, in the end this simply wasn't her arena; worse than that overestimation was her underestimation of the arena's reigning master. Tonight may have been the worst possible to be having an off-night!

No matter what sort of night she was having, it was about to become that much worse. Because now came the cumulative price of all those strategic miscalculations...

"Furthermore... I believe you have an end of our bargain to keep up." She gave that all-important declaration with the kind of leisurely, deliberate pace that relished in the moment's spoils.

The silver-haired girl blanched even paler with the gravity of those words as they sunk in, having said herself how much the victor enjoyed trouncing and humiliating her challengers (as Togami before her had found out). And if the victor had to guess, she would even say her trouncee was shaking slightly with the passing seconds.

Celestia's frozen smile probably would've been beaming for once if not for her uncanny ability to hide that fact, just nearly accomplishing Kyouko's goal to see it crack just a bit. She had burned the precious sight of watching her rival squirm all throughout the slow and thorough defeat she'd been handed into her memory, knowing there was plenty more squirming to be had. This must be how she feels delivering the last linchpin of evidence that triggers the culprit's downfall after a long, hard-fought case. And it felt _glorious_.

Eyes coming back from the blackened board with all the realization she needed to see that this was happening, Kyouko closed those widened eyes and sighed weakly. "Fine, then."

She hastily loosened her tie and reached for her blouse's zipper, prepared to take off all the layers that made her a private eye and get this over with before she was stopped with a waving finger.

"Ah-ah-ah, no assumptions, Kirigiri..." she smirked then, "I haven't even told you my conditions." Kyouko's gloved hands lowered from the lapels of her collar. "And don't worry: I won't have you run around in your birthday suit."

Just like a master poker-player, Celestia steadily kept her guessing until wholly ready to reveal her hand; even when she'd already won, that habit stayed firm. "Then... what...?"

The girl in black took a final sip of black tea before she stood up from the table.

"While it's tempting to see what the Headmaster... or Naegi-kun for that matter would think of such a sight," and the very image of their faces made her cringe, "I have something much more _personal_ planned for you." The vagueness dripping from those words made the defeated girl cringe again.

"After all... You're my prize... and a prize should only be left on display for its owner."

The level of her dread shot higher than ever from finding herself being claimed like some kind of plunder won at the tables by her apparent 'owner'. What mercy could she expect from someone so vastly-removed from it?

"Now... stand ready... and turn around."

Even with her fate in the hands of someone who -like a spoiled child- saw her as a toy to be played with and worn out, Kyouko's honor to her word exceeded all those fears; she complied slowly; reluctantly.

She turned to face the wall at the other side of the room and in turn heard a terse clinking sound quickly after. Her head whipped back on panicked reflex to see Celestia having just removed her silver finger-piece, left atop the table they'd played on.

"With what I'm about to do... I hardly think it would be fair to leave this on." No matter how much joy she took in prolonging this, she kept her guise of affability enough to use token words like 'fair'; or perhaps she meant being fair to _herself_.

"Now then, eyes straight; chop-chop." More questions blazing through the detective's mind than she had time to collect, she complied with that order slowly and reluctantly too as a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek.

Celestia indicated for her to lean her head forward and soon Kyouko felt the delicate hands of the gambler splitting the veil of her hair down the center like a curtain before carrying it over her shoulders. She was sure the lingering flow those delicate hands took -as if she thought she were arranging flowers- was intentional. Now her back was uncovered, and it made the heat collect under a collar she'd been so few moments away from removing.

Lingering still, Celestia's hands soon traced their way down to the small of her back. Those dainty hands could have been called gentle, but the aura of invasion their owner radiated made them electrifying to the touch. They could have even been called graceful as they pressed on down her body, but going coupled with the uneasiness churning in her stomach and the uncertainty of what awaited her just made their every move that much more unsettling.

Finally, those ungentle, ungraceful hands neared her waist and their next move was so electrifying and so unsettling that -against all the scenarios she'd imagined- it took the young woman by surprise in more ways than she could ever count. A single breath came out in a shotgun heave as a brisk and very sharp feeling shot through her backside.

The first thing she felt was an enormous tension firing up and down the fibers of her black underwear, starting from the rear-most band where a coil of lithe fingers clawed into. In reaction to the pressure that was rapidly-building, the lacy threads quickly spiraled into a thin line that pressed up against the space between her buttocks and wrapped up toward the space between her legs, her high-heels prying from the carpeted floor as her body weight submitted to all of these things.

It was such a strange, new feeling that processing a response was difficult at first. But as the seconds went by with the strangeness and newness setting in, taking shape beside it was the complete clarity of how much she disliked what was happening.

Celestia was actually giving her a _goddamn wedgie_. Of course she'd already learned about the practice from the time she'd spent overseas; the same presumably went for the one giving it as a symptom of being the foreign culture freak that she was.

The only thing the detective couldn't deduce was why _the hell_ such a ridiculous prank was being practiced on her.

She shot back to the gambler with an incredulous scowl. "...Are You _Serious_!?"

Her scowl was countered by a grin so blatantly brimming with self-satisfaction that it couldn't have been called anything but serious. "Quite. I've _always_ wanted to try this on you." As if on cue, she dropped and then caught the girl in a brusque but biting bounce.

Kyouko groaned as the narrow fabric lashed against her center like a whip. "I can't imagine your reasoning..."

The gothic lolita girl's grin could only go so wide because she knew no one else would ever see it. "Well I suppose you might say..." she started with a pause that wanted to milk this moment for all its worth, " _that attitude is exactly why_."

The intensity of the glare Kyouko sent -and she wasn't sure she could have glared any harder- was lost by the intrusion of another hefty jouncing, as if the crazy girl doing it was under the impression that her panties doubled as a bungee cord. This intrusion went on for the next minute.

She knew from the first time they met that this girl could be playful, which was understandable for someone who made their career by playing.  
She also knew how that playfulness was a peculiarity that compelled her to lie and manipulate so much in the first place, as if subtly tricking people were some kind of game only she knew the rules to.  
Most of all, she knew well the worrisome -and at times borderline dangerous- temper tantrums that this playful girl would throw whenever she (in her own mind) wasn't getting her way.

But it seems her childishness went deeper than originally suspected. They were both way too old for this!

The jouncing didn't stop. "May I remind you, Kirigiri, that it was _you_ who came here with the intent to humiliate _me_ ; not the other way around." That was a lie.

"You'd never take such a deal otherwise." She sprung the girl especially hard as she gave her next lie, in spiteful rhythm with every word. "Don't expect me to allow such a slight to go... un-pun-ished." That wasn't a lie, and for it she saved the three heaviest drops.

That was also a lie: the next several drops were harsher, but more painfully than that, even if she'd crafted a narrative which justified it, Celestia clearly had this 'retaliation' planned from the beginning.

Despite Kyouko's thinking she could evade any trap, and that it had brought her goal that much closer, offering that stupid bet had been her tormentor's lure to bring this torment about instead; and she'd taken the bait hook, line and sinker.

And it was right then that the girl who was now being bullied for it realized how badly she'd lost -once again underestimating the reigning master of gambles- before her glare faded into some form of compliance with the totality of that loss.

"Then... do whatever you want."

If this stupidity was to be a part of her school experience, then so be it; her stoicism could weather far worse things than this.

Taking her invitation with gusto, Celestia jounced the girl more and more in an unrestrained frenzy, and Kyouko squirmed each and every time, purely on impulse; it was hard not to when hundreds of threads were working together to grind the most sensitive parts of her body raw. By the last several elevations, she'd gripped and held the overstretched elastic herself in some fruitless attempt to push away from the jolts of agony crashing into her over and over and over.

"Ow..."

And on another note -and it wasn't that she was particularly heavy- but she found herself middling between strangely perturbed and strangely impressed that someone so petite was hiding such strength. Or was it just willpower? A total disregard for her own limitations? Either answer would have been both impressive and identically painful.

"Oww..."

That analysis of the ridiculous situation she found herself being forced to bear had probably arrived out of habit, or maybe in some attempt at reliving her mind of the ridicule that came with having to accept it. And it was all cut off as quickly as it came by the cleaving impact of yet another bounce; their impact seemed to be growing worse.

"Oww...!"

In tandem with that worsening impact were the worsening jitters of frustration rippling across the delicate features of the impact's originator. It was Celestia that was somehow growing more frustrated of the two.

No, there was more to it than that. Perhaps the correct word would be _completely livid._

* * *

Such misbehavior! Such brazen disobedience! Such impudent disregard for the agreement!

She'd won the bet fair and square; they shook on it and everything! But more importantly, she had already decided tonight's entertainment and this was not the kind of squirming she'd expected. This was _her_ prize, dammit! And the struggles of this little minx -which accomplished little more than being supremely annoying- were _not_ about ruin it!

After all, a plaything that fought back was like a lousy draw beside a lousy starting hand: no fun and useless in the long run.

The livid gambler tossed her victim back and forth with crueler and angrier vigor; she'd be sure to reprimand, and punish and correct and the undisciplined girl's bad behavior as much as it took until she learned to fall in line.

That's what she gets for thinking she's better than the Queen of Liars. That claim belongs to no one!


	3. Chapter 3

Kyouko wasn't a mind-reader; she had said many times, in spite of the accusation that she didn't possess any superpowers. A good detective simply knows how facts fit together.

' _You are unbelievab-oh!_ '

She had some understanding of profiling and criminal behavior, but everyday interactions were still something of a weakness for her. She could pick up on a person's habits, body-language, vocal patterns and the changes in their expressions on a scientific level, weighing their intent by the facts they implied. But reading the emotions that motivated those things was more Maizono's specialty; now there was a girl who could pass for a mind-reader.

' _Can you not hear what I'm-ow!_ '

Since she couldn't read minds, the deep-seated insecurities that provoked Celestia to torturing her own classmate were all lost on her; the only thing she could read was the result which was her own being tortured.

' _Are you out of your mi-yeow!_ '

She knew this girl could be unpredictable, but this brutality was startling in a way not unlike being tossed back and forth both mentally as well as physically.

' _Cut it-ouch!_ '

Having little way of answering why she was in agony right now left her little option besides the squirming and struggling she'd been doing since it began, spurred in self-preservation yet looking like defiance to her agonizer.

' _Stop!_ '

And so with an expectation she had no way to meet, the 'undisciplined' girl wasn't falling in line the way Celestia wanted. With or without a line to follow, she still felt the consequences of the unreasonable girl's unreasonable grievances. Tired of squirming -but not too tired to complain- Kyouko finally planted her heels to the ground despite the pain, just to regain some level of control (all while making those grievances swell).

"You _do_ realize that this hurts, don't you?!"

Her protests managed to draw out the single most sarcastic gasp she'd ever heard in her life. " _Nooooo~!_ Why, I hadn't even the faintest-NO SHIT, SHERLOCK! THAT'S THE IDEA!"

Oh-no...

There was the explanation for her sudden drop from total elation to total hostility. For just a second, her (normally) gentle voice went just a bit gruffer, like it tended to whenever her patience was thinning; thin enough to drop all pretenses of being a refined and proper lady. One of those infamous tantrums, in other words (never a good sign).

"Now, how about you stop _struggling_ and just ACCEPT YOUR PUNISHMENT?!"

Once more, Kyouko felt her planted heels get torn from the ground, faster and more aggressively than the first time.

Any girl on the receiving end of that aggression wouldn't be able to help crying out, and she was no exception. And as she cried out -pitched higher than usual- the aggressor held her high up like a trophy with anticipation of the cries that came next, hungry to savor every one of them.

Even then, Kyouko wasn't like most girls; rather than sate Celestia's hunger by letting out her voice, she instead caught her breath in mid-air, and with it her real defiance. "You're just a sadist..."

Celestia responded with that well-trained smile, like a mask coming back to life. "Guilty... as... charged..." she spoke softly again, through the cadence of another spiteful rhythm.

Fully convinced she was owed something, there wasn't a chance of her stopping now; no matter how many of her behavioral shortcomings were called out (she'd heard them all before). Sealed off in this soundproof room and far from the eyes of their classmates, this sadistic girl's restraint had seemingly vanished with the certainty that her victim would never disclose what had gone on here. All that remained was her cat-like penchant for batting prey back and forth before going in for the kill. The difference was that some cats were simply never taught to properly put down their catch; a cruelty born of naivete.

This cat knew exactly what she was doing and she didn't care.

Kyouko half-expected that thought to get cut off like so many before it, but Celestia was one of the odd people capable of subverting her expectations.

The angry jolts twisting through the fibbers of her underwear came to a sudden stop, and she was allowed a moment's relief as her feet were allowed back to the ground (shaking as they slowly touched down). With that, the lithe fingers loosened their grip on her waistband and then promptly met at her front, not so tightly that they were squeezing against her, but not loosely either.

Suddenly, she found herself enwrapped by the silken-wrapped arms of her tormentor, mere moments from the torment she'd been inflicting so gleefully. Suddenly, she was being _hugged_.

Once again that night, Kyouko was at a loss to react, and it wasn't just because of the abrupt change in mood that was hanging in the air. She may not have appreciated the reputation she'd earned for being unapproachable, but her naturally distant disposition hadn't prepared her for other people getting so close; this sort of closeness coming from the one girl known to rival her distance could have taken anyone off guard. The sheer surprise of it sent a rosy bloom trailing softly across her face as her struggles softened just the same.

She had less than a second to take in the ruse's hollow warning being whispered into her ear; far too late to realize just how off-guard she'd been taken. "This is for the best..."

Immediately her hands were seized and her wrists pulled together by a long white cloth, probably a handkerchief. Immediately after that Celestia's nimble fingers were turning and gliding through the streams and folds of cloth as if they were lighter than air (faster than its captive could gather).

(Where a professional card shark would gain a skill like that was one of the rare questions the inquisitive young lady would much rather go unanswered).

As the knot finished with a firm tug -like the efficiency only a spider knew as it wraps up its meal- Kyouko briefly wondered to herself when she'd lost her chance to have avoided this.

The offending fingers pulling out of her sights, she looked down closer at the tangle of satin shackling her so snugly and a brief wriggle in both wrists -one after another- confirmed that, despite looking delicate, it was too firm and too inflexible to escape; much like its owner.

She looked over her shoulder to the culprit stepping back with the satisfied admiration that one would exhibit after finishing a painting. Hers was the poise of a girl who could see nothing wrong in the exasperation she'd caused; the proverbial cat that got the cream. "Was this really necessary?"

The self-satisfied girl sent a smug grin, the same look she'd worn before her meltdown. "Well... given your fondness for defying me... yes, it really was."

Those words made clear just how justified she felt restraining her own classmate for not quietly accepting the maltreatment she was doling out, never mind whether she saw anything wrong with it. Things like this were exactly what made the inquisitive young lady question if this girl's entitlement knew no bounds.

After a nod of approval to herself, Celestia approached with the predatory glint in her eye returning. "Now then... let's continue where we left off."

Again that night, the color in Kyouko's face drained with the gravity of those words sinking through her consciousness like a stone, heavier than before. "...Please don't..." she said with an exhaustion and dissent in her voice that few languages could rightly convey.

Celestia chuckled as she invaded the girl's skirt for the second time with even less hesitation than the first. "I hardly think you have a say in the matter."

...!

"Oww!"

Within a single second Kyouko's waistband returned to its earlier height, and just like before she wailed as she felt the onslaught of a thousand angry threads driving into her all at once. She didn't think it possible, but this fiery thrashing had become so much worse than any she'd been enduring so far with her hands being unavailable to lighten the blow.

Had she done something in another life to deserve this?

Before she could further lament the ways such a simple job had turned out like this, the gambler's next move had once again caught her off-guard

(with as many times as that had happened, she'd written the off-night explanation as an excuse).

After that initial brutality, she felt a newer, flimsier tautness bristling through the abused threads of her panties, alongside her ears relaying the unmistakable nip of braided hemp dragging against lace, no doubt scheming to abuse them further.

Those two well-honed senses had told her enough to know what was happening before her eyes verified that Celestia was carefully -perhaps even skillfully- threading a rope through the pair of well-exposed leg-holes she'd been tugging on like a madwoman mere seconds ago.

Moments like these made inquisitive young lady wonder if having multiple personas, personalities and/or levels of sanity was some kind of weird quirk among the girls in their class.

Celestia's latest stunt was far from comfortable, but wasn't anywhere near as painful as her last; the real reason Kyouko's brow furrowed as the rope came into view was from trying to figure out what bizarre intent this bizarre girl had in mind when she'd pulled that rope seemingly from out of thin air.

(Again, she decided she'd rather not know where a card shark had learned that particular parlor trick).

Taking in her newly-recovered freedom from mid-air, Kyouko's foot jerked defensively as she turned to her captor (maybe on some instinctual need to get away). "What do you think you're do-!"

Kyouko winced mid-question as her answer came in the form of Celestia wrenching what little slack the rope had without warning. Playing her part as 'owner', she then walked from the room's center with the shortened leash in hand, again without waiting for consent from the girl on its other end. Robbed of the center of balance she'd been so relieved to reclaim only moments ago, Kyouko could only march awkwardly behind.

"Hey... stop!" she protested as she fought to keep her feet steady.

"Endure it. The finale isn't far off" she replied without so much as sparing a glance for the girl who had been (begrudgingly) enduring every other indignity she had dreamt up.

Perhaps her entitlement was at a level only observable to a mind-reader.


	4. Chapter 4

Kyouko would often say that a good imagination and the compulsion to overanalyze were the most crucial aspects of her job. Imagine as many scenarios as humanly possible and have a theory for every human possibility; meticulously take in and analyze every piece of information like a puzzle so that those theories could be adjusted accordingly before closing in on whatever conclusion was left standing. And most importantly, have a circumspective recognition of the little variables and hidden realities that permeated every case so that the conclusion was really and truly sound; essentially form a new, non-variable reality where there wasn't one before so that only the one, single truth remained.

All of this was at the foundation of her detective's instincts.

And unfortunately, that perspicacious habit -and her inability to turn it off- prevented her from holding down the rising volume of her protests as she was led staggering past the center-dresser that never got used and to the side-most of the room's entryway (easily gathered with or without her eyes facing forward) in what had to have been one of the strangest and most-revolting scenarios she could imagine taking shape before her.

Being given a _wedgie_ ; having her expensive underwear forced from the pleated protection of her skirt -like a black cat chased from its den- as a puerile form of torture. All because the torturer -in her warped preconceptions of what constituted a prize- felt no shame reducing her to a personal toy akin to some worn-down childhood ragdoll merely from winning a bet. Poorly-thought as it was that she'd gone and agreed to it, but still a mere bet.

A warped, puerile bet whose degrading penalty reduced her normally-comfortable panties to this newfound instrument of her torture; reduced _her_ to a wedgie toy.

From all the strange and revolting turns this night had taken, the expanses of her powerful imagination ran wild with the strangeness and revulsion that was to come.

Could Celestia have prepared other, harsher instruments threatening to humiliate her further? Perhaps the card shark planned to put that spider's efficiency to a mortifying use leaving her tightly, helplessly bound up in some humiliating position? Or maybe the rope-fiend was going to parade her through the halls of Hope's Peak Academy with her panties in bridled tow so that this humiliation could be captured on its security cameras forever.

Even knowing firsthand how this queenly young woman was too selfish to go sharing 'her prize' with anyone else, the colorful collage of personality defects that colored her chimerical, variable-filled mind gave little reassurance. So long as it satisfied some narcissistic demand for dominance, she just might be crazy enough to actually do it.

So long as the small chance existed for these kinds of strange and revolting ideas to enter her head -and the chance only grew more likely as door grew closer- Kyouko couldn't dismiss the worry any more than she could dismiss that nervous adrenaline jittering through her which those worries had bourn.

Please don't let any of those realities be formed.

 _Please_...

Wait a second...

What...?

Was she being turned _away_ from the door?

* * *

Soon...

So very soon...

Soon she'd be fervidly reaping the pay-off of a good call on an even greater ante, won like so many pots taken before it. This jackpot of hers, all hers, taken purely, cleanly, through her myriad wits and cunning, like so many prizes taken before it; she never failed to reach out and grab them.

And thanks to so much _outstanding_ talent and _masterful_ brilliance, soon she'll have tamed the Super Highschool Level Detective, just like every other rival before her; teach the insolent young lady just why she -the Super Highschool Level Gambler and the greatest high roller of them all- always comes out on top when the stakes were raised this high.

'It's her own fault' said the high-roller to herself, so very many times. After all, who had been the one to raise those stakes so high? Who had so dreadfully brought it all to this point? Who had been the one to so nakedly flaunt such ignorance of her place, like only a true D-rank would dare? The presumptuous little minx would pay the price of all this guilt with her dignity.

So very soon...

Celestia, so observant as her profession required, caught notice of her dreadfully laggard captive's struggles and complaints dampening pathetically as the line of closets flanking the entryway drew closer. How adorable!

She was sure the girl with wide eyes spotted the closet standing out among the rest by its bareness, the raison d'être of her every act in this play thus far: no painstakingly constructed and silken and sewn dresses whose like normally hung so immaculately within its walls could be seen; fully, completely bereft.  
(oh, how she loved those wide eyes so full of comprehension as her fully-revealed hand slithered into view)

Yes, it had been a small sacrifice to make this dread her favorite opponent -and new favorite toy- was feeling possible. But if cramming the vestments which made her Celestia Ludenberg into their temporary home inside the cabinet-dresser was what it took to cram this defeat into the stubborn girl's oversized-and-overused skull, then she _would_ make it a worthy investment. Oh so very worthy...

She had had the lone bar fixed across the sleuth's prison-to-be reinforced past the point needed for bearing such dainty, frilly garments; more than enough to bear the dainty, frilly garments it was about to.

One lone bar fixed in place: more than enough to hold and correct the undisciplined prisoner whom it waited to imprison, ego and all.  
A lone bar locked in mid-air: more than enough to take her up to a good height while taking her down by an even greater peg.  
No, it wasn't just a lone bar locked inside a prison-to-be: it would be enough to take down that dreadfully massive ego of hers fully and completely.

Oh so very soon...

"And that, Detective, is the finale."

* * *

"Regret" wasn't a word she would associate with these few, simple years she'd tolerated Celestia's quirks; even granting her reasons for that sentiment being so simple and so few.

One novel skill Kyouko had to show for all the "games" they'd played together -and she'd won all of them up till now so she'd seen the upper levels of the gambler's frustrations- was how to read past the poker face which she prided herself on enough to believe in its perfection. But detectives don't believe in a perfect deception: and so she learned to read something painted to be unreadable.

That was just her nature; she made a point of being able to read everyone in class, imperfections and all. Celestia's inability to exclude herself from that assessment exemplifying her imperfection so plainly may have unintentionally exacerbated those frustrations. But that was just her nature...

Evidence of the assessment's absolute accuracy, every readable thing -from every shift on her pale-powdered cheeks, every sparkle in her deep-red eyes and every step to her deep-redder Mary-Janes- everything on, around and about that familiarly-proud poker face in that moment was palpably, shamelessly screaming out that she was serious.

To reiterate:  
 _She. Was. Serious._

So against all the ways this girl who clothed herself in lies had unwittingly helped exercise her intuition for catching those imperfect lies...  
Right in that moment the word "regret" suddenly felt rather apt.

Too apt.

 _Oh God_ , she was serious!

A look of wide-eyed trepidation had replaced the poker face she too usually wore as an undesirable reality was replaced with another in the closet standing tall before her. Tracing a trepidatious line up the wall painted in deep-red, those widening eyes quickly twisted into a deep-cutting glare as they landed on the uncuttable steel bar staring back down at her, coldly impartial and coldly imposing all at once.

And so with cold, uncuttable steel shaping the last piece, the pieces all piled together to shape the puzzle's twisted picture; the strange and revolting image of a harsher instrument prepared in advance that threatened to humiliate her further. "Just how spiteful _are_ you?"

She bellowed those interrogating words less coolly than she'd have preferred. But still...

Parlor trick or not -coming from such a capricious _brat_ or not- Kyouko had kept both eyes locked onto the gambling prodigy who lacked the paranoia to explain being this well-prepared since setting foot in that stupid Rec Room. Thinking back, that first step into the gaming den her 'mark' haunted like a real den was really the first limb she would tangle in the spider's web.

She knew the girl well enough to know she wouldn't _just_ compromise the pillar of vanity that was her beloved wardrobe on some off-chance at exacting vengeance; because in spite of her title, she never truly left anything to chance.  
And she knew this girl wouldn't be carrying ropes and bindings and whatever other instruments of indignity she might be hiding _by coincidence_ unless they served a purpose towards her hedonism; because in spite of so much caprice, she never truly did anything without purpose.  
But beyond those two things, the one thing she knew above all else was that the fiercely conniving Celestia Ludenberg she knew, by virtue of the previous two factors existing simultaneously, _would never make such a deal otherwise_.

The only conclusion left standing was that somehow this prideful, capricious and conniving girl had set it all up for a spite that only made sense in her vain, hedonistic little mind.  
Childishly manipulated her own classmates and acted as live-bait for this job out of childish spite.  
Maliciously hired her own 'hitman' by proxy and prepared a retaliation in malicious spite.  
Forged a labyrinth of lies whose design only her liar's eyes could see while playing on the playfulness that allowed the huntress _she_ hunted to accept that job in the first place.  
All just as she did best, all for spite.

Somehow.

(she was wrong about the intentions behind their past 'games')

Somehow...

(her frequent challenger had probably been stalling earlier in the Rec Room)

 _Somehow_...

(no one would put any of it past her)

Somehow...?

"...!"

"Ow-www...!"

Kyouko could only wail girlishly through the fully and completely totaled spite that was Celestia channeling her distaste for the interrogation in a totalling affirmation of that spite, lifting both rope-ends tangled rigidly in each hand their highest yet at the peak of both girls' shoulder blades, again wrenching up the sturdy twin-openings normally meant for Kyouko's legs till they pushed up threateningly close to the same punishing height.

"Ooouuuh..." the punished girl whined as the shock subsided.

Even inflicted on a detective hardboiled enough to hide all but the most hardwired of her responses and reactions, such fresh stinging beside the raw sensitivity of so many accumulated stings gone sore before it made her soft voice go louder than it had gone all night -probably louder than in all her student career- only to peter out and soften again to a nigh-inaudible groan with the subsiding shock.

Perhaps all done to test the rope's disciplinary strength, but more likely done so Celestia could test her prisoner's weakness in being disciplined; also because, in her infinite whimsy, she just wanted to. "I'd say that question is the least of your concerns... Detective."

Acting fast before the rattling aftermath of her 'test' could be shaken off by its fast-rattled testee, Celestia cast a rope-end over the cold, awaiting bar with an urgency burning crimson-hot to reach out and grab the fantasy she'd kept of a mortified lady-sleuth left tightly, helplessly bound up in a humiliating position.

Like a gambler would, she would bet anything the mortified young lady whose fortunes landed her in the prize-position of that fantasy should have reached the same vivid image burning furiously somewhere within her superabundant suspicions like a detective should.

With a crimson-eyed glint that looked so-gleefully forward to confirming that suspicion -a climactic play amongst the other humiliating plays she had up her sleeve- Celestia reached out and grabbed the rope's fluttering tail like it would scurry away if she didn't. She then quickly joined her pre-prepared and pre-practiced tools of scraggy hemp and cold steel by the same spider's efficiency she'd shown earlier, quicker than before and quicker than her humiliated plaything could regain her rattled mental footing.

"No..." groaned the rattled lady-sleuth less audibly than ever as her mental footing came slowly back; more than enough to comprehend.

By so little failure needed to make it happen, by both tightly-knotting rope and her own rapidly-tightening panties sealing shut the sturdiest of her prison's locks, Kyouko knew she was trapped. The theoretical turns this strange and revolting scenario could take depleted so hopelessly fast that she was given no chance to react, and the reality remaining left her so hopelessly trapped that she was given no chance to escape.

Kyouko knew morbidly well from employing these mental tactics on many a guilty culprit during her work -helping them walk into their own conviction defending themselves so stupidly as they so stupidly often did- that the harder one struggles against a well-laid trap, the harder it'll constrict its catch. Regardless of what morbid form that trap took. The aggravating feeling that all those same stupid culprits would all be laughing at her right now only made this bitter reversal of positions taste that much bitterer: because so long as this pitiless girl held all the cards, the same pitiless constriction would hold true for her own struggles.

A bead of uncomfortably hot sweat trailed slowly down Kyouko's fast-reddening cheek, and just like before when her defeat was slowly sinking in, she was shaking weakly even against the uncomfortable heat spreading fast all over her body; through a uniquely-aggravating regret like she hadn't felt in years suddenly given life all in one night, it came on like a familiar and yet new kind of defeat.

Regret... _goddamn regret_. As if she needed another word like that wallowing so bitterly in her mouth. Should she count all the ways?

Maybe she regretted that steadily-growing boredom sown by so many banal cases and so few truly intriguing mysteries worthy of testing her numerous -yet consequently unsharpened- skills against that had allowed her to take on this novel challenge.  
She probably regretted the dangerous pride in her fundamentally more intellectually-intensive Super Highschool Level talent -presumably built by all those easily-solved cases- that had allowed her to foolishly trespass on the minefield-like territory of another.  
And she definitely regretted that self-indulgent childishness -likely stirred by both pride and boredom's daredevil alchemy- needed to involve herself with and play along with all these silly games dreamt up with her ruin in mind, which she had then allowed this horrid girl to play upon for her own childish purposes.  
But most of all, her choice to associate with such a girl long enough to grow these many sinkholes of regret across these few, simple years so that all these dangerous weaknesses she'd left bare could be ruinously exploited trounced every regret before it.

 _Of course_ a professional gambler wouldn't make such a deal otherwise; she didn't need 20/20 hindsight to know that was obvious. Did she have unsharpened skills or foolish pride to blame for how long it had taken her to figure that out...?

Damn it all...

Damn all this humiliation, damn all this apprehension, and damn all this regret! She was a detective, dammit, not some toy to be played with and worn out by this horrid, shamelessly-spiteful brat!

...

' _Who would have thought simply pulling up her undergarments would pull out this many emotions?_ '

Like many things, all this red-hot emotion boiling over from a girl usually so emotionally-cold wasn't lost on the ever-observant Poker pro, their bodies edging close enough for her to follow every body-lingual jolt and jitter. ' _I mean, really... this kind of reaction already?_ ' she thought to herself both impressed and disappointed, as if she'd wanted the young lady's infamous fortitude to last even longer purely for the chance to tear it down even more. But no matter: this still seemed too good an opportunity to get in another barb or two..

"Scared, Detective?"

As she turned to the source of that simpered half-taunt, Kyouko's usually-emotionless visage showed nothing like fear; only true frustration.

"Well then you'd best prepare yourself..." her simper grew poisonous as she added the tiniest of pulls, "because if you don't, this next part is going to hurt like an ever-living _hell_."


	5. Chapter 5

Right then, by a basest physical instinct to evade suffering and against a detective's instinct to read her situation's inevitable conclusion, Kyouko turned sharply on her just-planted heel towards the last reprieve that was the door so few steps away in a last break towards evading inevitability.

So many thoughts of escape had floated up in her mind and been analyzed so many times through all the stings she'd shut down her self-preservational instincts to endure: exit points, exploitable weaknesses, opportunities to put a stop to this. Painful as it all had been, she knew she could take it all in stride if only to honor the bet she'd agreed to; this much suffering was permissible. But knowing just how painful this stupid prank she'd suffered through could become was enough to know that _this_ was far too much; Kyouko remembered weighing 48 kg and standing 167 cm tall last she checked. Knowing how unbearably painful this was going to be with those two facts in mind -all that pressure focused into a single, vulnerable spot- was more than enough to know that she had to get away.

Even if it meant throwing away what was left of her thoroughly-damaged and dwindling pride by going back on her word; the flickering hope that she could get out of this when logical deduction said that she couldn't.

...

..!

"Ah!" gasped the vainly-fleeing girl as her unplanted heel and her momentum's sharpest pivot set upon each other clumsily enough that she nearly tripped in place. That cornered prey's last break didn't get her very far.

Scoffing softly, Celestia effortlessly reeled her captive back into captivity beneath the bar without so much as a pause for her meticulous work on the ever-tightening knot and the pulley it lead to. "Still defying me, I see... further proof of how much you need this sort of humbling." She paused intentionally to smirk mid-knot. "Why not think of all this as a learning experience, my egocentric friend?"

With that invitation to acceptance, Celestia took the clinching rope holding her rigging tight in both hands and yanked downward with an unacceptable intensity, smiling as the bar played its part and her grievously-humbled captive was yanked off her heels one last time; that would be the last in a long time those two vertigo-entangled heels would be allowed sweet contact with the ground.

Choking down the painful moan drying in her throat just to deny Celestia the satisfaction, Kyouko knew there was simply no point correcting the girl's inane delusions; a tormentor this blatantly gleeful would likely use any snarky remarks she might dispense to justify taking the torment further. The last thing she wanted was this oncoming agony taking on a set of weights strapped to her ankles atop its agonizing payload; Lord knows this room hid such a thing lying in wait somewhere for just such a purpose.

So even through gritted teeth and lips curling sourly in throbbing strain, she kept her mouth shut -the best she could manage- as her final chance to escape faded from sound possibility fully and completely. Before she'd had enough time to at least do like she'd been told and accept her fate, Celestia hauled the rope's other end through the cinch she'd made and heaved the rope's quietly heaving captive into the air with a quiet glee.

"Oh!" Kyouko gasped as her center of balance jettisoned dizzyingly-fast into the pit of her stomach with her already-unstable toes -her last line of defense holding this all back- slowly joining her heels in only just reaching the ground, dangling.

...

It began, fully and completely, more electrifying and unsettling than it felt the first time.

There was no haste in the pattern Celestia wielded to haul the rope like there'd been before where she would madly hitch the underwear up in every mad direction on her every petty whim. Worse, this was a slow burn, but there was no disguising just how badly it burned. Celestia hauled the rope with a quiet precision that utterly basked in its own slowness. So slow that Kyouko couldn't discern where its inexorable rhythm ended nor where it began; it just hammered at her over and over like an erratically-knotted string of pithy, elasticky bounces linking up high at the softest curves of her waist and traveling down the conduit of her trembling legs.

Celestia's unhasty fingers seemed to linger savorily over the braids as her palms closed around them, and both girls felt every single, tiny shudder -weight all shifting and shaking in every direction _pointlessly_ \- carrying through the deliberately slow rope at each end as those lumbering braids crawled over the bar like a slug; one by one by painful one.

"Oooowww..." was the softest and only noise she had left, every sharp convulsion and every tremulous breath within those noises swelling gross with tiny vibrations all teasing her in a row through a bluffed stillness only to make way for the next. The grating of the jagged frills and dragging lace so teemed to turn against their wearer was so constant -so mechanical and automatic in its chaos- that as it all pooled inward at her very-most center, the wicked meeting of weight, tension, heat and abrasion growing together out of control felt like they were all battling fiercely, mercilessly, with her caught in between; at each's mercy and bearing each's brunt. All these painful facts came together to prevent her from accepting her fate no matter how much she tried.

Yet another wave of hot sweat washed across her body and with it a hot rush of blood flowed up into her already-dizzied head as her feet really and truly separated from the ground by at least half a meter, like she were hovering. It wasn't like before where the pressure rose and fell akin to a shallowing tide, her feet planted here and there by however motivated Celestia was feeling -here and there- to keep her from that relief. At least then she could look forward to the unwanted separation lasting mere moments beside longer moments. At least then even her merest struggles might earn her some reprieve against Celestia's wiry grasp.

This time her opponents were endlessly enduring gravity and the ungodly durable fibers making up her panties, neither likely to give before she did. As she endlessly tried and failed to detect some point of reprieve against these fearsome opponents, the pressure steadily became so raw and so painful -like tongues of steadily spreading flame licking at her most sensitive places- that even for someone like her who could drown out her very emotions, it was wreaking havoc on the physical threshold that kept the agonized whimpers and moans from squeaking past her lips. And so endlessly she cried out, _pointlessly_.

" _It hurts_ " ran rappidly through her mind over and over, and it creased across her pale features against her best efforts; no sardonic warning from a pair of poisonous lips could have been enough to prepare her for this ever-living hell, and it too showed on her face against her best efforts. Against herself.

"Hmm-hmmhmmm..."

Speaking of poison...

Celestia could honestly say she thought this side of the detective looked positively adorable. Far preferable to that aloof and taciturn young woman she seemed so keen to _present herself_ as. Watching her instead squirm like a perfectly pathetic worm on the end of a fishing hook uselessly trying to get loose while her usually tight-lipped mouth went perfectly ovular every time those girlishly high-pitched whimpers escaped past her perfectly gritted teeth every single time the threads decided to burn her from some new, oblique direction... simply delectable.

So very delectable...

...

Dammit!

This was too much; _far_ too much for her -in stable body and longanimous mind- to take.

Her head moved from its weakly lolling nod -slowly as not to encourage any more _pointless_ shudders than were necessary- needing, above all else, to make these many grievances known. She exhaled once before amethyst eyes pinpointed into deep wine-red ones.

"I don't think you actually realize how... _painful_ this is..." she spoke slowly too as not to encourage any more of those tremulous breathes that unfailingly sent her spiraling into another inexorable rhythm.

"Hmmhmm..."

With just a sample of her amusement showcased by a chortle hummed to herself, Celestia could honestly say she was impressed Kyouko managed to keep her iron-will composure intact under these circumstances. Not that she would do anything to make that impression known; absolutely nothing of the sort would she allow. "...And your point being?"

Kyouko didn't know how much of the wince in her left eye and the subsequent groan slipping quietly from her mouth came from pain and how much came from the total exasperation layering every level of her being. "My 'point' being... that I would _never_... have done something so juvenile," her glare sharpened there, "if the tables were turned... This is way too far!" She ignored that moment's spiraling set off by her own sudden rise in volume.

Celestia's contumelious giggle came out so very acted, like a great villain on stage delivering the play's most shocking twist as if to twist further the knife of her condescension. "Kirigiri, I'm a gambler: the tables are always turned in my favour." Kyouko's nose scrunched in successfully-furthered frustration at such an asinine admission of guilt, which only led to another of the gambler's amused giggles that she let last in full before speaking again. "And I'll be the one to decide when 'too far' is." She hauled at the rope again, for the last time, and so many more agonized whimpers came rushing out Kyouko's mouth.

"Aaahhhaaa... "

This last grueling haul of the night didn't take a seasoned master like Celestia long at all, but for a first-timer like Kyouko it was truly a long fall into hell.

"Ooohhhouuu...!"

Before long, the gambler grew fully, completely satisfied with the height she'd left her doll strung up at, and so completed her last knot even fuller and faster than any before it, both offending ropes spread far apart with Kyouko at their center like a hanging triangle. Soon after, she produced another object from some sleeve or pocket and snipped off the errant rope end so that it fell outside any range Kyouko might have been able to manipulate it from. Twisting the knife still, she allowed the sewing sheers to linger within the detective's purview before pulling them away, teasing again with how easily such a small tool could have offered her an escape.

Celestia stepped back again to inspect if all was in its right place, taking the opportunity to stroke and then pluck the undulating rope without a thought for the girl it was confining, perhaps to test its strength again but more likely because she just wanted to. As if she wanted to test how many new sounds she could bring out from behind the detective's stone-cold lips with every cruel new sway and sudden, snappy percussion; see what faces she'd make when her stoic mask had fallen.

But again, all of that may have happened because she just wanted to.


	6. Chapter 6

Kyouko groaned harder than she had that entire night as the rigid strand of lace tore into her like a superheated garrote wire she would have read about in her favorite mystery novels. "Ugh... You've had your fun... So cut this out already!" The nonsense she was being subjected to -which sat proudly at a magnitude likely to stretch even the most wary investigator's comprehension- was to blame for her next emotion-filled raise in pitch that sent her spiraling once more.

Celestia caressed the still-quivering rope in hand, calming its play but also threatening to strum its chord again. "If you had some clue as to what fun this is, Detective... you wouldn't stop either." Another poisonous chortle gave weighty finality to her words. Oh, how she would make this victory last.

And last it did...

* * *

Ugh!

Frustrating...

Too frustrating for words...

"..."

But no too far for words to still liberate...

Grasping fiercely for her usual composure, Kyouko put all she had into forcing her features to soften, knowing well how many times and how spectacularly showing frustration had failed. She needed a new strategy: needed to remind Celestia that they were still classmates, who would have to see each other at school the next morning; remind her that -against all of her _extraordinarily_ long list of faults- she still held some respect for the Gambler's keen understanding of psychology and mathematics.

"Please... Celes-san... let me down already... this... _hurts_..." Holding her tongue as she softly swayed again, Celesta could almost swear those solemn amethyst eyes looked ready to tear up if what remained of her pride would allow it. " _Please_... I don't think I can take any more of this..."

If she absolutely must be humbled, then she'll humble herself; that's what she thought. For the first time in a long time, her emotionless mask wasn't there at any layer or any level. All that remained was the absolute truth.

"Hmm..." the girl in all black simpered again.

Talking her way out of this? It seems the sleuth had forgotten that this wasn't a court room and that she had nothing to bargain with here. Celestia gave what she knew would be the last smirk her captive would be seeing that night. "Kirigiri... once again, you misunderstand me." Her hands came together as if it made her point any clearer. "You know full well I'd never allow you to throw away your pride by going back on the deal." Kyouko's eyes visibly widened. "I would absolutely never call you my rival otherwise." She chucked again as Kyouko trembled in some mix of dread and that same frustration she'd decidedly left behind bubbling up again.

"And besides... I haven't _quite_ claimed my prize just yet."

Knowing the detective's eyes were cautiously taking in her every move like cornered vermin before taking the cat's unfurled claws, Celestia produced what looked like a wound up strip of lace from her sleeve, bridged taut in both palms. "I'll have to have you hush up, now." With that, she raised the snow white material past Kirigiri's defiantly swerving neck and up to her pale jaw-line pressing it against tightening lips and clenching teeth before the tensing rope's next painful sway made by the same pressure made such meaningless defiance sway enough to force it past both. As its perfect bow landed firmly behind her head where she couldn't reach, Kyouko fought back the urge to chew down on the cloth gag out of contempt for its very existence.

"Hehehe..."

As adorable as she'd begun to find that violet glare, Celestia looked forward to blotting out its laser-locked fury in beautiful raven black. She would reduce every single feature her captive took pride in -nakedly opposing the lie she'd given about preserving it- until only a thoroughly tamed detective remained.

After a shortest pause carrying a hidden urgency, Celestia retrieved what seemed to be a frilly black sleeping mask camouflaged well in her frilly skirt and thus matching the rest of the room's Victorian decor. Lifting lilac bangs out of place for only a moment, she gently wrapped the mask just above Kyouko's nose, darkening the amethyst jewels of her eyes as if leaving her gothic mark on the still-squirming girl.

Once more Celestia stepped back to admire her work as if she'd put the finishing touches on a painting, still testing if all the pieces in place aligned with the fantasy she'd kept of this so very mortified lady sleuth receiving her so very well-deserved punishment. Snow white lace shackling slender wrists and trapping clever words within that smart mouth of hers; raven black blotting out those overly wide eyes from scanning so obsessively for weaknesses; strung up like a beautiful doll on display in a prison of her own making by a gamble she'd foolishly agreed upon. Yes, she looked perfect.

Now, all that remained was to capture this perfection.

* * *

Darkness...

This darkness was terrifying in a way that terrified a girl who usually thrived in the darkest shadows. She couldn't move her hands. She couldn't touch the floor. She couldn't even see how far away it was. She just knew that it felt farther than it ever had before.

All that was left to her senses was an acrid grating, utterly removed from anything she could do to avoid or prevent and the sound of hundreds of black threads splitting slowly -too slowly to withstand or make sense of- through their attritional grind against the softest and most sensitive contours of her pelvis in this blackened gothic room she found herself trapped in like some medieval dungeon. It was as if every perception and every kind of feeling she had was taken away, to make way for the agonizing pain of this painful reality.

Seconds of this passed. Seconds in which Celestia could drink in this precious sight through wine-red hues before throwing it all back into the face of her well-earned prize with the only words that might ever suit such a finale.

"If you haven't already figured it out..." she giggled, "you _will_ be spending the night like this."

Kyouko's shoulders jerked and her heart-rate quickened as that malicious string of words bombarded her one after the other in the order she most feared.

Mmph _phnt_ ve pherrus! ("You _can't_ be serious!") She tried again not to worsen the pain by squirming more, but again her emotions betrayed her logical mind.

Celestia smiled for herself right then. "Well, perhaps I'm not serious..." she spoke softly, showing just how well she could understand the girls muffled grievances with a pride in all the disturbing implications held by such a skill. "Perhaps I plan on freeing you in due time, after deciding when you've learned your lesson..." she paused to let that statement linger. "Or perhaps I don't."

As that familiar saccharine giggle laced with poison ignited inside her ears, Kyouko's world seemed to stop in the seconds following that ultimate declaration and its many horrors. "Now you'll have no choice but to wonder. I'm sure _that_ will provide you some distraction, at the very least." Kyouko squirmed more and more in the only outlet for her frustration she had left, logic be damned.

There was that singsong giggle again at such a blatant display of emotional overload, her captor's signal to let the world and all its unworthy opponents know that she'd truly won; that she'd shattered the stony expression she promised she would shatter someday. "Normally, I appreciate fine music to accompany my evening reading... but since tonight is special..." her fingers steepled next to her most wicked smile, "I'll have to ask _you_ to fill that role."

Mmmph! Vrreph meiph _aph vmph!_ ("No! Release me _at once!_ ") Kyouko barely knew which direction to complain in.

"But before I do that..." her voice lowered dangerously.

Only once in the entire night, Celestia retrieved another tool not from out of nowhere but this time from the center-dresser that was seeing more use than usual, a borrowed pink camera adorned with a magical girl character; not that Kyouko would know any of that from where she was hanging.

"...A little something to commemorate this wondrous occasion." She took aim like the huntress before canned prey that she was.

' _What in the ever-living hell is she talking about?_ ' Kyouko asked herself.

*CLICK*

...

 _No_...

Anything but _that_ scenario...!

*CLICK* *CLICK*

VAAPH! ("STOP!")

*CLICK* *CLICK* *CLICK*

She squirmed fiercely and kicked her legs just the same under the mistaken hope that her panties might rip when they'd survived every other trial this night without a single true tear, her pulse shooting up rapidly as the distinctive, machine gun CLICK of a camera's shutter fired off again and again like by firing squad.

*CLICK*  
*CLICK*

Vaaph viph arevvy! ("Stop this already!")

And yet the sound of the shutter going off wouldn't stop; it only increased its rate of fire.

*CLICK*  
*CLICK*  
*CLICK*

Mmph! ("No!")

Hopeless. This was _hopeless_. Utter humiliation at this evil girl's whims and she'd gone and left her cell phone at the table that had started it all, cut off from any and all rescue, or or the very least some kind of sympathy from a friend (since she knew the door was locked anyway). Hopelessly doomed to suffer in torturous gagged and blindfolded silence, save for that incessant CLICK commemorating it.

*CLICK*

Perhaps it hadn't been in the exact manner she'd imagined, but all of her deductions had broadly been correct: the closet had been the harsher instrument Celestia prepared so that she could be bound up like a spider's catch with all of these humiliations captured on camera forever; all while Celestia kept 'her prize' to herself. How badly she'd wanted - _just once_ \- to be wrong.

*CLICK*

*CLICK*

Before long, Kyouko's stream of complaints degenerated into a string of soft whimpers as their total futility set in. She really was just a prize on display now, still for the camera's benefit.

*CLICK*

*CLICK*

*CLICK*

She didn't want to think anymore; couldn't stand thinking about how many shots Celestia had taken, from however many deplorable positions and embarrassing angles. She stopped bothering long ago to keep count of all the CLICKs that had been pushed past her ears. Whatever sort of answer that she didn't want to have answered had come up, eventually it seemed to satisfied her captor's cruelty. "Ahh... music to my ears" she heard from beneath the blindfold with no response that the gag would allow.

*CLICK*

It was the tally of all her humiliations... and it just kept on counting upward.

* * *

Soon, Celestia retired the well-used camera to its home atop the cabinet-dresser, knowing it had done its job immaculately. She looked forward to having Yamada develop the prize it had captured in the morning.

The gambler took on an unseen, devilish smile as she finally reached the denouement she'd been grasping for. "I must thank you for a very enjoyable session, Kirigiri." She reached out one last time to fully, completely admire the scallop-edged hip-band and its embroidered rose pattern within her dainty fingers, which was now stretched far passed their wearer's hip. "And I must add, you have exquisite taste." She giggled aloud at their owner's boundless disapproval as her admiration of the garment inadvertently sent said owner swaying unpleasantly to the left. "Since these undergarments look expensive, naturally I'll be sure to replace them."

' _How kind of you_ ' Kyouko snarked internally if only to comfort herself.

"But for now, it's gotten late, so I'll have to be heading off to bed..."

Kyouko's sharp set of ears made it clear by the soft rhythm pattering off a pair of mary-janes she'd heard many times before pressing against carpet that Celestia was indeed walking away. Leaving her like this.

Already she was dressed down to her raven black, fine silk sleepwear. Already she had the raven black covers of her luxurious bed rolled up to her chin. Already her lithe fingers rolled across the tiny knob of the lamp set atop the nightstand. "Sleep tight, Detective."

Gepph vaph hrrrph! Celephvia! ("Get back here! Celestia!")

And right then, the terse CLICK of the lamp shutting off and blanketing the room in total darkness atop the darkness of her sleep mask made it abundantly evident that the gambler wasn't bluffing and that she, despite her last feeble hopes, wouldn't be escaping any time soon, save for some newfound mercy from a captor who had none to give.

Still darkness. Still immobility. Still with every grueling second came a new layer of fresh, unbearable pain thrown atop the pile, burning brutally like a funeral pyre closing in on her until she was crushed. Nothing she could do could make it any better.

Kyouko had no idea how she was going to be able to withstand this, but she suspected that Celestia had wanted that question to echo through her mind all through the night, knowing the only answer she'd ever reach was that she probably couldn't.

And there it was.

That undesired answer came to her circumspective mind as a side-effect of those detective's instincts she was so proud of. The worst possible alternative to her tireless hunt for the truth was when all the possibilities that she'd meticulously overanalyzed decreased in favor of some horrid, undesired situation with fewer and fewer alternatives to escape it; the dead end variable as the case really and truly closed. So with all of these horrid factors staring her in the face, the mystery -which she might have preferred to remain uncertain- was solved without ambiguity; her imagination run dry with any other scenarios and no other conclusions left standing. This... _wedgie_... was her one, single truth.  
Hands tied.  
Eyes covered.  
Hanging off the ground.  
By her _panties_.

Kyouko gave one last weak squirm of combined discomfort and discontent -both totaling higher than she could last remember- before her energy finally died down fully and completely, and her head slumped low in turn with lilac bangs spilling across her face as if to mask her shame.

"Owwie..." she whimpered weakly from beneath the gag; near-sobbed if her progressively-tiring voice would allow it. That weak sound and others like it were all she was or would ever be allowed for the rest of this ever-living hell of a night.

* * *

...

Vammph mmph t'heevvph! ("Damn you to hell!")

...

* * *

...

Phhh vvph hllvv ophv _GOPPH_ hllph meiph vowmmph! ("For the love of _GOD_ , let me down!")

...

* * *

 _..._

 _Phhl-eevvee...!_ (" _Ple-eeease...!_ ")

...


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you feeling alright, Kirigiri-san?"

Her wearily zoning-out eyelids flitted open from the desk she'd been sitting stiffly at as she took in the concerned voice of Makoto Naegi, Super Highschool Level Luckster, her occasional crime-solving partner and one of her most trusted classmates and friends (perhaps more). The first one she would have called if she'd had her phone that night.

Thanks to a boundlessly-forgiving personality and a wallet lined with a completely ordinary budget in spare pocket change, he'd been one of the odd students -within class 78 or otherwise- who hadn't contributed to that ridiculous 'reward' pot which contributed to her issuing that ridiculous challenge mere days ago.

(he probably would have liked for the class to either leave things as they are despite the tension it would leave hanging in the air, talk it all out despite so many failed attempts, or give their gambling classmate another undeserved chance; he was mostly ignored)

After far too many blurry, fragmented hours in that miserable state drifting through semi-consciousness, Celestia -whom the sleuth suspected from the animated pace of her breathing may not have been sleeping at all but instead laying there listening serenely to the muffled whimpers seeping through her room all throughout the night- had seen fit to wake earlier than usual, before the sun she avoided so very frequently had risen.

(feeling shaky heels meet solid ground, she could only faintly recall a relief quite like being freed from that excruciating, overwhelming tension that would have made anyone lacking her pain-tolerance pass out many times over; but just as all minor victories confined to Celestia's wicked games were short-lived at best, her release from the prison made for the game's loser was no exception)

"Impressive: you held up rather well, Detective... now, get out of my room" she remembered hearing alongside sights still covered as she was given her disgraceful coup de grace to finish off the graceless night; a literal boot in the ass out the door.

(the gambler had taken care to do so while removing the saliva-soaked gag swiftly enough that she had no time to throw back some biting remark; her worn down mental facilities may not have allowed it anyway)

Whatever aberrant sort of mercy Celestia may have found to release her so early in the morning when no one was around to find her in such a state, she hadn't found enough to take off the tear-stained black sleeping mask along with the gag or unbind her languid wrists.

(no matter how much she would thrash and claw throughout the night, their collective knots seemed to defy her at every frustrated twist and turn with their collective refusal to loosen; her sleek-as-all-hell gloves had no doubt further-complicated the task's already-infuriating difficulty).

Thus she was forced by her _merciful_ captor's uniquely ridiculous whims to make the unbelievably-embarrassing march on numbly-tired legs back to her dorm room effectively blind without the chance given nor the possibility of readjusting her panties from the ridiculous height they'd riden up to, leaving their tortured-elastic hanging in absolute indignity from the waistline of her tightly-waisted skirt. The single modicum of freedom she had left in this torturous setup -her voice- only made things all the worse by those same high-riding panties and their insistence on _mercilessly_ grinding into her sorest places with every delirious step and hurried stride, prolonging her grief with the grueling ordeal of quieting all but her most tortured whines so as not to wake anyone or arouse unwanted attention.

Just as Celestia had intended by waking earlier than usual and then ungagging her; not that Kyouko, in her state at the time, would have known that. She had only figured it out in retrospect.

(one thought which crossed her mind sometime during the night was that her overstretched-yet-intact underwear would probably have eventually ripped had her habit of skipping meals during investigations not left her so light; or perhaps if she'd decided to rebel against her usual preference for practicality and instead chosen a less durable brand).

Both girls knew her unbelievably-embarrassing, absolutely-undignified march through the dim halls would surely be caught on the school's many security cameras, but the dimness dotting her sweat-soaked clothing allowed some paltry silver lining in her over-lengthened undergarments being too black to show up in the feed; the same couldn't be said for the silvery dotting of satin that was the handkerchief still shackling her wrists. Adding to that, both girls knew that even if he found out, Kyouko would never go seeking help from her father, the Headmaster; not if her very life depended on it. And as anyone -detective or otherwise- could have predicted, that fact hadn't stopped some of the other teachers from asking what specifically had happened that night.

(she guessed Fujisaki, with a more invasive personality, could probably have taken a look at the embarrassing and undignified footage too; she was grateful for the Super Highschool Level Programmer's strength of character in respecting other people's secrets)

Suffice it to say, she'd been left exceptionally vexed by the exceptional persistence with which the subject that she would prefer be dropped completely had been vexingly pressed - by her usual clientele among the staff in particular.

Naturally, Kyouko had to report back to her fellow classmates with her failure as she was pressed on the matter at school - by Togami in particular. She completely, absolutely refused to give any specifics on how, exactly, she'd failed, other than that most basic fact that she'd indeed failed; no one had a response to that.

(the Super Highschool Level Detective's reputation as one of the most gifted minds in the Ultimate school had forged an assumption about her talents carrying into a different match of wits, creating a plan of attack that could presumably be called failure-proof; in hindsight, a foolish presumption by all parties involved)

At least a few of the more observant students -Naegi especially- noticed how strangely she was walking away as the discussion closed, with her normally-elegant gait maintaining a similar level of inelegance throughout the rest of that week. The one thing which was lost on no one was how the otherwise-unflappable sleuth seemed to be subtly avoiding Celestia to the point of even evacuating the room as soon as the gambler was nearby, while said gambler made no attempt at hiding her contentment at said sleuth's endless discontentment.

(Celestia meanwhile would always remind anyone who asked that unless they were betting on her winning, sending a 'hitman' her way because of any problems they might have with her attitude only to later guage her response was quite the disrespect; whether Kyouko was right about she herself engineering it all from the shadows, no one had a response to that either).

In testament to his Junior detective-like perception opposed to her tight-lipped desperation to keep it hidden, only Naegi managed to pick up on the way she would occasionally wince during Phys Ed or wince harder whenever she sat down; her small winces peppered throughout the last school week had been what had prompted him to walk up and speak with her in the first place as she arrived in class and took her seat; wincing again, of course. Even when the other students left the topic alone -knowing both girls' capacity for keeping secrets- it was simply in his nature that he couldn't help worrying for a friend.

Her head turned away as an unmistakably rosy scarlet crept upon her heating cheeks, an already rare sight from the usually-stoic girl made no less obvious by her pale complexion. "Naegi-kun... just drop it... _please_..."

(she should be allowed at least one plea to be acknowledged, right?)

Even as the rumors and curiosity within the 78th class of what had happened during the match of wits between two of its members faded, one thing was for certain: from that point onward, no one -in any class- dared challenge the Queen of the Liars in her own field _ever again_.


	8. Chapter 8

As her dainty fingers sank into gripping-range of their dainty target, Celestia's eyes widened considerably at the color-pairing peeking out from the horizon of her victim's pleated miniskirt. Pink? And striped?

"Oh my, Kirigiri... I expected something far more mature from you..." She sounded both terribly patronizing and slightly disappointed, as if the only one she'd call "rival" had somehow let her down.

Kyouko's pale cheeks went pink to match her cotton briefs. "...It's just underwear. What does the print matter?" Her blush wasn't from any direct embarrassment she was feeling over her choice of undergarments, but from the unnecessary attention being sent their way.

Celestia chuckled softly as she gave a short but firm tug on the banding alignment of horizontal stripes, as if signaling what was to come with the detective's audible squeak. "Hmm... well if that's your stance, then truly you have earned this." And then, with the stripes banding further and further, came the long but firm tug. It went for very, very long.

The cloth quickly became rigged against its wearer as it fought not to break under the pressure it faced, the stripes pointing like rounded arrows towards Celestia's clenching fists. Kyouko's cheeks puffed into a slight pout, holding back her voice until her grievances burst out through a similar kind of pressure, like water undamed from stone. "Stop...! They'll rip-"

"And if that happens" Celestia cut off, "then I'll gladly replace them... preferably with something more suitable. How does black sound...?"

Briefly, Kyouko wondered if that complaint had instead motivated her captor to pull even harder, as if looking forward to the chance to take her underwear shopping. With the night becoming a blur from both awkwardness and unpleasantness meeting at her center, the question only got both harder to answer and increasingly less important; the sequence of stripes bowed and bent every which way, but even holding up her entire weight didn't seem like it would be enough to make them rip any time soon.


End file.
